The Baker's Children
by narglefanfics
Summary: The Evil Queen reigns and five very ordinary children learn the consequences of helping Snow White escape capture. The Baker family's bonds and loyalties are tested as the oldest sibling, Azalea, fights to keep her brothers and sisters safe. Ch. 3: The Bakers meet the Evil Queen.
1. The Tale of Benjamin Baker

The Baker's Children

Prequel

 **500 Years Ago**

Benjamin Farmer was known throughout the kingdom as the most average person in all the lands. He didn't excel at anything, though try as he might to take up a profession. Benjamin's parents, who worked the farms of King Leopold I knew from very early on that their son would grow up to be average. He picked apples in the orchard, but was neither the fastest nor the slowest picker of his siblings. He planted seeds, but his plants never grew to be bigger or smaller than the other children's. He was just mediocre, and all the workers knew it. As Benjamin grew, he tried his hands at all sorts of occupations. As a fisherman, he didn't catch enough fish to make a living. As apprentice to a blacksmith, his shields were never special enough to sell to the traveling knights. Even selling pottery was a bad job for him because he could never dazzle the customers enough to make sells. After trying every profession in the entire kingdom, Benjamin set to traveling the woods alone. He would survive off nature.

Two days into this new venture, Benjamin discovered that he was always slightly hungry and always very bored. Seven days of hiking found him in the view of a large, looming castle that cast shadows all around it. Benjamin, not being the brightest, decided to trek to the castle and ask to stay for the night, as the wind was picking up and the night had grown cold. The doors to the castle opened as Benjamin approached, and he entered curiously, eyes on the large statues that lined the halls. "Hello?" He called out. The stone walls were gray and domineering. The torches on the walls made the tiniest thing look large. The castle would have made anyone run for the hills, but not Benjamin, which is, perhaps, where his true strength lied. "I need a place to rest for the night, if that's okay with you." His voice reverberated all around him. Eventually, he came to two rooms. One was filled with lavish furniture, while the other was perfectly ordinary. Benjamin chose the latter. He had the best sleep he had ever had in his entire life and decided to stay another night in the castle. When the second day came to an end, Benjamin thought he would stay a third night. He had yet to meet the castle's owner. On that third night, loud thunder woke Benjamin from his dreaming. A dark figure stood in the corner and as lightning flashed, Benjamin saw gold scales and reptilian eyes. He quickly rose from the bed, but was forced back down by a mysterious force. The figure loomed over him.

"What brings you here to the Dark Castle?" A high pitched growl left the creature's thin lips. Benjamin trembled.

"I-I thought I might rest for three nights."

"No, no, dearie. What _really_ brings you here?" The monster asked. Benjamin somehow understood.

"I want to be better than average. I want to be the best at- anything, anything at all. I'll give the one that helps me anything." The creature placed a clawed hand upon its jaw, thinking. A laugh from it jolted Benjamin's entire body.

"That, I can do for you. You'll be the best baker in all the lands. Everyone will want to partake in the food that you have created- but, there is one condition." Benjamin couldn't believe his ears. His dreams might finally become realized. No more would he be embarrassed at his own mediocrity. He would make his parents proud. "After you pass, for many generations, the children that come from your line will be cursed. Do we have a deal?" That shocked Benjamin, who found himself suddenly able to stand.

"I'm not sure," He admitted.

"You have to be special to get what you want in this world. Think of the change you'll make when you have the love of the kingdom." The imp enticed. Benjamin found himself fighting with two parts of himself, but ultimately, gave into his darker side and accepted the deal. Before he died, he would find a way to become immortal. He felt clever in out tricking the trickster.

From that moment on, Benjamin – now Benjamin Baker- lived a very good life. He ended up cooking for the king and his royal court and was loved by all in the kingdom. As time passed, his hair turned white, his fingers ached, and his back arched. Benjamin was turning into an old man. It made him worry. In his success, he had forgotten all about the imp's deal. He soon left his family in search of the castle where he had gained his powers. It took him twelve days to find it again. The doors opened as they did for him when he was much younger. The reptile man was waiting for him. He looked exactly the same, though Benjamin had aged significantly. "I'd like to make another deal." Benjamin croaked, his voice tired and worn. That same high pitched giggle that had haunted his dreams for years met his ears.

"You don't have anything I want, dearie."

"Turn my clock back. Make me young again. I'll give you anything" He begged, clutching his twisted cane. If only he had more time, he could outsmart this dark magician.

"You've already cheated life more than the average human, don't you think? You've had your fun. Time to die." He grinned.

"No, no. I want to live."

"I hope success was all it was cracked up to be. Enjoy watching your offspring suffer from the Underworld." And with those words, Benjamin Baker took his last breath. He crumbled to a heap on the stone floor, ash and bone mixing until the Dark One made him disappear completely. That was the last any had heard of Benjamin Baker and with his death came the death of his childrens' talent, as well, for they suddenly found themselves very, very average.


	2. Snow White and the Baker's Daughter

The Baker's Children

Chapter 1: "Beginnings"

 **Present Day**

The Baker household was the strangest of all families. The family of seven lived two villages away from the Royal Castle. Their small bakery almost thrived in the prime location of their village square, though their profits grew more insufficient each year. 'Who could blame them,' thought the villagers. Charles Baker, the current head of the family, suffered from an unknown ailment that slowed his work. His wife was from a far away, bustling town and she was generally unliked and untrusted by their neighbors. The children were rarely seen, besides the oldest daughter. The girl had inherited her mother's foreign looks, and was the envy of all in the village. The villagers thought it a waste to have such a pretty face if it was always covered in flour or hidden inside a book. The bread wasn't all that great, either. If any villager lived long enough to tell, they would remember that there hadn't been a good baker living in that residence in hundreds of years. That was the stigma that Charles and his family grew up around, and when opinions are voiced so loudly in the streets, they tend to creep into our own thoughts.

Baker children were raised on the stories of Benjamin Baker, their great ancestor who supposedly made cakes and bread for the king. It is that very tale that Margie Baker begins our story with as she tells her children of the ordinary Benjamin who somehow found fame and fortune from his talent. The rocking chair creaked and creaked as Margie rocked the youngest of the Baker children to sleep and recited her story from memory. Rosemary was the prettiest baby that anyone had ever seen, though no one but the family had laid eyes on her. She had large tufts of black hair growing from the top of her head and large blue eyes. Because she was a baby, she didn't have many distinguishing features or a personality, but enjoyed sleeping, crying, and eating.

Aster Baker was the second youngest of the group and sat on the floor in front of the bed, letting her older sister comb her light brown locks. She was seven at this time and very interested in the story, though she had heard it at least ten times, which she knew because her older sister was teaching her to count. Aster was as pretty as any young girl was expected to be, and spent most of her time tending to the animals out back. She looked up to her sister and loved her unconditionally, even if she was jealous that Azalea got to meet young boys and she did not.

Audrey and William were the twins of the family and both at ten years of age. They could tell Benjamin's story backwards if they wanted too, and lied on their bed together playing stick knights. Audrey had brown hair like their mother, but William had inherited the dark hair of their father, just like Rosemary. The two never left each others side, and passed the long summer days playing various games they invented. Audrey was brilliant and William was downright competitive.

Sitting on the second bed in the room was Azalea, the oldest of all the Baker children. She sat diligently combing her sister's hair, which she was quite fond of and liked more than her own dark brown hair. She was listening peacefully to their mother's tale. Having heard it the most of all the children, she sought comfort in the familiar rags to riches tale. Many responsibilities often fell on Azalea's shoulders because of her mother's ineptness and her father's aching bones. Mostly she looked after her sisters. Azalea knew she was the envy of all the other girls in town for her charming looks, but didn't know what to make of the information. At fifteen, she should have already had many suitors or even a husband, but because she was needed at home and perceived as odd, she was all alone. She longed for a life of adventure, where no one knew her and she had no responsibilities. She'd give almost anything for that. But seeing as magic was quite rare and taboo, she was content to take care of her family.

Soon, all the children were asleep, except Azalea, and Margie left the room after kissing each child on the forehead. Once Margie was gone, Azalea lighted a candle and held the handle over a book she had pulled out from under the bed. She stayed up many hours into the night, reading about princes and princesses. Her mother thought stories were ridiculous, unless based in truth, so Azalea hid the books she secretly bought from traveling salesmen. This particular book had cost almost half a year's worth of saving. A constant tapping distracted Azalea's mind from the words of her story and she gave up reading for the night. She thought it was the wind, but when it got louder, she decided to discover the source of the noise. Little did she know she was about to meet the person who would change her life forever.

Outside the Baker's house was a girl only a few years older than Azalea, crouching behind a small bail of hay. She beckoned Azalea forward, who despite all the warning signs, met the stranger.

"Can I stay in your barn tonight?" The girl whispered in a very nonthreatening way. Her voice was sweet and gentle.

"You don't have to ask. We would have never noticed." Azalea answered truthfully, bringing the candle forward. The girl wrung her hands together.

"I'm sorry. I'm still new at this." The orange light that was cast upon the stranger made Azalea notice things she wasn't able to before. The girl before her was wearing an expensive gown and had jewels woven in her hair. She noticed Azalea staring because she stood and began backing away very slowly. Azalea immediately knew who she was.

"Snow? Don't be afraid. My family believes that you're the true Queen." Azalea reassured the princess. Snow hesitated, but seemed to trust her. Azalea held out her hand for Snow to take and led her into the barn where their donkey, Patches, slept in the corner. "Stay the night. Stay as long as you want."

"I can't. The Queen, she'll find me." Snow trembled, sitting down in the dirt like she was glad to rest her legs. Snow White looked completely out of place in their dirty barn.

"I'll get you a blanket... And maybe a change of clothes. You'll easily be spotted in what you're wearing." Azalea offered, not believing the kingdom's princess was in _her_ family's barn.

"Do you have anything I can eat or drink? I haven't had anything in a while." Azalea nodded, sneaking back into her home. She grabbed a blanket, her own set of clothes, a bottle of milk, and some old bread from the bakery. She found Snow in the same spot, staring out the small window.

"It must be very hard for you, being so far away from home." Azalea said by way of greeting as she kneeled next to Snow. She offered her basket and was glad that Snow didn't scoff at what she had brought.

"Thank you. I don't know what's home anymore." Snow said solemnly, taking delicate sips of the milk. "My father is gone. My kingdom has turned against me... My stepmother despises me." She was still staring off as she bit hungrily into a roll.

"More of the kingdom is with you than you think." Azalea said, resting her head against the wall of the barn. "The Queen has put out a huge reward for your head, but from what I've heard, at least in this village and the one over, is that you're innocent."

"Thank you. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

"I'm no one special. I'm not going to play a big part in anyone's story. I'm just glad I could help." Snow reached out a hand to touch Azalea's knee.

"You're very inspiring. Look how you've helped me, knowing the consequences if you're caught. You've truly affected my life, so I would never say you're not special." Snow's sincerity touched Azalea, who found a few tears coming to her eyes. "Oh no, don't cry. I'm the one on the run." Snow said, removing her hand and looking worried. Azalea chuckled.

"I'm not going to cry. Thanks, though. It means a lot." They both laughed again then sat in silence. "Change into those clothes to wear as a disguise. Tomorrow, I have to take bread to the village over, so you can hide in the wagon. You'll be on your own from there, but I think another village won't be too far off."

"Thank you. Tell me your name so I might return the favor one day."

"Azalea Baker."

"Thank you, Azalea. It is nice to know I have allies. Goodnight."

"Night." Azalea said before leaving. As she closed the barn door, she had one last look at the princess, who was finishing off the last of the rolls. She didn't understand how anyone could be so evil to such a sweet girl. The minute her head hit the pillow, Azalea fell asleep. She didn't think twice about being a traitor to the queen. Her thoughts were with the innocent princess hiding in her barn.


	3. The Baker's Daughter

Azalea was up so early that morning that she passed by their sleeping rooster on her way to the barn. As she opened the heavy wooden door, she saw Princess Snow White fast asleep under a blanket, with her head resting on a sac of corn.

"Princess," Azalea whispered, easing into the barn. The only light in the barn came from an open window from up above that cast the princess's sleeping form in a block of light. Azalea thought she looked like an angel. Snow White's eyes fluttered and she rose to a sitting position.

"Good morning," the princess mumbled, stretching her limbs.

"I brought you some fresh water, but I'm afraid that's all I have. We need to get going if we don't want to be seen on the road." Azalea explained as she handed Snow a wooden cup. Snow drank quickly then followed Azalea out to the wagon. Azalea began hooking their donkey, Patches, to the small wagon. While she did this, Snow looked around their little farm. A soft smile was on her face as she looked at everything.

"I'm glad to know my people are doing well." Snow spoke quietly, turning to Azalea. Azalea grunted as she finished up the last of her work.

"My family manages. I can't say the same for others, though." Snow looked disheartened at her words.

"I didn't realize..."

"Some people are just given a bad hand in life, nothing you can do about that." Azalea scratched Patches behind his big ears then showed Snow to the back of the wagon. "I have bread and vegetables in these barrels, so you can sit comfortably here, and I can throw this blanket over you." Snow nodded. "No one should see you."

"Thank you again." Snow said as she climbed in with the help of Azalea.

"It's my pleasure to help the princess." Azalea said before throwing the blanket over Snow and the barrels and securing it with rope.

The trip to the next village wasn't a long one, but it did take most of the morning. Snow poked her head out every now and then, but it was safest if she remained hidden. Azalea stopped just before she reached the entrance to the town.

"Is this where we part ways?" Snow asked, poking her head out again. Azalea helped her out of the wagon.

"Yes. The next village isn't too far off. Maybe you can find a way to get to the outskirts of the kingdom, and then sail to another part of the realm." Snow looked troubled. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to run away and abandon my people, but I don't know what to do. I've never been on my own before and I don't understand why my stepmother is acting this way." Snow wrung her hands together as she spoke, until Azalea placed a comforting hand on top of them.

"I don't know much. I'm a very simple person, but I've heard about you my whole life. Snow White's kindness and innocence is known all throughout the kingdom. I'm sure you will find others who can help you and once you find your footing, you can take your place on the throne again." Snow jumped at Azalea and wrapped her arms around her.

"Oh, thank you so much. I hope we meet again so I may repay you." Azalea returned the hug, sad to see her new friend go.

"Me too. Now hurry and go before someone comes." With that parting, Snow White scurried into the woods. Azalea watched until the princess disappeared completely then settled back on her journey.

Upon returning home, Azalea completely forgot about the princess she had helped. In fact, her life had gone completely back to normal.

It was still dark out when Azalea Baker rose from her bed a week later to tiptoe outside and begin collecting the chicken eggs.

"Good morning Puddles, Sky, Feathers..." She greeted as she placed her hand under each sleeping chicken. Feathers was always restless and rustled her wings at Azalea, but otherwise kept still. "Thank you very much, I'll see you at daylight." She whispered, spreading out feed then closing the coop and making her way back inside the small house. She placed the basket of eggs on the table then set about doing her other chores. She fed the the two piglets and the donkey, fetched water from the village well (as it was always better before the others had got to it), then started cooking the eggs over the fire she had prepared. Soon the sun was out and the village was bustling with early workers. Her father came through, patted her on the head, then left for the bakery at the front of the house.

"I'll have breakfast ready soon, Papa." She told him, smiling at her work.

"Give it to the little ones." His gruff voice replied as he went through the door.

"What did I tell you 'bout screamin' so loud in the mornin', aye?" Azalea's mother came in with a screeching baby in her arms. Her mother was beautiful, Azalea thought, with her tanned skin and hair, but it was hard to see the beauty sometimes when the personality was so wicked.

"Sorry, Ma." Azalea poured the eggs evenly into five wooden bowls and handed one to her mother, who had begun feeding her little sister. Margie Baker scowled when she looked down into the bowl.

"That's all we got?" She asked, setting it next to her until she finished with little Rosemary.

"I think Puddles isn't feeling well. She didn't have any eggs for us and the others' were smaller than normal." Azalea explained, scooping up her eggs with her fingers.

"What did I tell you 'bout namin' the animals?"

"Not to, Mama...Good morning, William." A small boy with wild, dark hair came into the room rubbing his eyes.

"What's for breakfast?" He asked in a voice that had yet to hit puberty as he accepted the bowl Azalea handed to him. He groaned when he saw the meager eggs.

"Better be thankin' the Gods we got that much. The Smiths right down the road are eatin' mush for every meal." Margie warned, pointing her finger at her son, who promptly sat himself onto the floor. Azalea wanted to speak up, because her mother had just contradicted herself, but remained quiet. Another boy looking exactly like William, but with lighter, brown hair came in.

"I'd just like bacon for once, that's all, Ma." He said as he took his eggs.

"Blame the Queen for our problems, Audrey."

"What's the Queen got to do with it, Mommy?" A sweet little voice asked, and Aster came in in her night dress. Her messy brown hair proved she had had a good night's sleep.

"Nothing, Aster. Mama's just making stuff up again." Azalea explained, picking her sister up and sitting her on the small table. Aster was the happiest of the Bakers for getting to eat eggs that morning. They were her favorite.

"You callin' the Fishers liars, Azzy?" Little Rosemary was fast asleep in Margie's arms, and their mother was able to put the baby back to rest in a cradle. She now took part in the breakfast meal. "The whole kingdom is sufferin' now that the King's been murdered and Princess Snow is on the run." Azalea's cheeks flushed as she remembered the Princess. Her mother hadn't even met Snow White, and yet she would believe such lies.

"Mama, you know you partake in the village gossip too much. It's preposterous to believe in every word that you hear."

"Perpossy-what now? Where you learnin' words like that?"

"Azzy reads." Aster said happily, kicking her little legs back and forth.

"What did I tell ya 'bout readin'?" Margie's eyes were cold and dark as she looked at Azalea.

"They put thoughts into your head and thoughts'll only get you in trouble." Azalea recited, eyes downcast. Margie huffed.

"Don't be tellin' me that the princess didn't kill the King. That's what the Queen says, so it's true. What did I tell you about royalty? They're all messed up in some way. You remember that, children. I just wish we had a better Queen was all, so we wouldn't be havin' to starve... Go help your father. I'll clean up here, since it seems I have to do everything."

Azalea's eyes stung as she went to the front of the house where their bakery was. Her mother's words were false, she knew. Azalea had read about the royal lineage and knew that the Whites were a prestigious, old family who were completely sane. Her Pa was putting dough in the large oven as Azalea arrived.

"What can I do to help?" She asked, not oblivious to her father's groans and aches as he stood up. He was getting too old for all of this work, especially with his back injury. Despite all this, he smiled when he stood.

"Just stand out front and look pretty, I 'spose. You always bring the young boys in for their mothers." Azalea nodded, happy to get some fresh air. Their shop had a small bench outside that her older brother had built before he passed, and she sat on it and began picking flowers. She was aware of the stares she got from the passing villagers, though she didn't understand why they looked at her. Her hair was brushed and her brown dress wasn't anything fancy, but it wasn't ugly, either. Her mother had told her when she was much younger that they were jealous of her looks, but she never saw anything special in the reflections she saw of herself. Her brown hair was dull and thin, but she liked it because Aster enjoyed braiding it. Her nose was a little crooked, though she had tried to straighten it for many years. Azalea wished she looked more like her mother, who was curved and had grown into her looks. Right now she felt likes a newborn fawn, who was clumsy and self-aware. She placed the flowers she collected in her hair then glanced into the shop. Her father was busy dusting the counter.

Suddenly, a midst the usual chatter of town, it felt like something bad was about to happen. Birds crowed in the distance and loud hoof prints reverberated around the town. Azalea wanted to scream to the people to run, to go far away, but she felt frozen to her spot. It wasn't long before large, looming dark figures road into the square, pulling an even darker carriage that reminded Azalea of every bad feeling she had ever possessed. The horses were magnificent. They were dark as night and tall as trees. Guards left the horses' backs and pointed swords and various weapons at the village people, who either screamed or huddled together, or both. Azalea was fixated on the carriage door, knowing it must be the queen who was about to emerge. A firm hand came to her shoulder and Azalea jumped as she saw her father. He bent down low, "Before they see you, go back inside. Take the children, get on Patches, and run."

"But, Papa," She argued, eyes glued to the guards' backs as they surveyed the villagers that Azalea had grown up around.

"Do as I say." He pulled her up and her flowers fell out of her hair. She was shoved inside, just as she heard one of the guards shout, "Bow before your queen!"

Azalea saw no one inside, but raced through the house and found her mother and the children out back. Her mother was loading the wagon with the children and blankets. Aster was crying as she held rosemary close in her little arms and the boys were looking solemnly at the house like they would never see it again. Margie was crying, saying, "I love you. I love you," over and over again.

"What's going on, Mama?" Azalea asked, her heart beating loudly in her ears.

"Your father and I never told you, but a village near us burned down a few weeks ago." Her mother said, completely serious and losing the country twang she had adopted from her husband.

"What?"

"We're not sure what's happening or why, but you have to go." Azalea's head was spinning as her mother forced her to mount Patches.

"I don't understand, Mother."

"One day, you will. Now go. Go far away and don't look back. Take care of your brothers and sisters." Before she could say goodbye, her mother slapped Patche's flank and he whinnied and broke into a jog. They left the back way out of the village, and as the forest overtook them, Azalea finally allowed herself to cry as she realized she would never see her parents again. She didn't understand why this was happening, but knew it had to be connected to Snow White. They rode for what felt like hours, guilt building inside of Azalea until she felt like she might explode. As Azalea was beginning to feel sore, Patches slowed so far down that he finally stopped altogether. They were in the middle of the forest, next to a lake. It seemed as good a place to stop as any. Azalea climbed off, kissed Patches's head, then unhitched the wagon. She heard a whimper, then went to the back of the wagon to see Rosemary wide awake in her sister's sleeping arms. Azalea gently took Rosemary away from Aster and rocked her back and forth in her arms. Rosemary's blue eyes shone like the moon as she looked up at Azalea. She giggled and wrapped her entire hand around Azalea's finger. Azalea smiled, but it quickly left as she smelled smoke. She looked into the distance, over the lake they had rode around, and saw smoke.

"We should start riding again." She whispered to Rosemary as she wrenched her finger from the baby's grasp. She walked around the front of the wagon to look for their faithful donkey, but was met with only darkness. "Patches?" She called, looking around for some sign of him. She saw a small gray ear in the distance and glanced back at her siblings before proceeding further into the woods to follow. She might not have had a plan, but Patches would be essential to their survival. Azalea saw his head bobbing along as he walked further and further until they came out onto an official road. "Patches!" Azalea whisper-shouted, refusing to step foot on the road. Patches looked back at her lazily, chewing grass in his mouth before continuing and disappearing again. Azalea took a deep breath, then finally stepped out onto the road. Just as she did so, hoof steps approached and wheels came to a screeching halt. Rosemary began to cry and Azalea quickly bounced her up and down to hush her. A dark figure approached her.

"What business do you have on the Queen's Road?" The deepest voice Azalea had ever heard asked. Before she could answer, the carriage door was thrown open and a long leg stepped out. Azalea was struck dumb as the most beautiful woman she had ever seen approached her. The Queen was clad all in royal red with black feather protruding from behind her. This woman was pure darkness. From the scowl on her red lips, to the way she stalked forward, she struck fear in Azalea's very core. She held tight to Rosemary, who was suckling happily on her knuckle.

"This is a private road." The Queen's voice came to her, sweet as poison. A crackle came from the Queen's hand and a giant fireball appeared, lighting up the night. Azalea quickly shielded Rosemary's face. "Surely, you know what happens to trespassers?"

"Please, Your Majesty-"

"Don't look the Queen in the eye, peasant!" A guard shouted. Azalea quickly diverted her gaze.

"I-I was chasing my donkey, Patches. He ran across your road and I'm here with my little sister, Rosemary." She motioned towards the babbling baby in her arms. "And my twin brothers, Audrey and William, and our other little sister, Aster." Azalea said breathlessly, all while staring at her feet. "We're... We're orphans, Your Majesty." She added, her heart dropping into her stomach as she realized the truth in her statement. The fire before her was extinguished and Azalea chanced looking up. The Queen was very close now, and was looking hungrily at the both of them. A sweet scent, like apples, drifted towards Azalea as the Queen leaned over to see Rosemary, who put her chubby little arms in the air and tried to grab one of the Queen's long earrings. The Queen seemed entranced, and elegantly took Rosemary out of Azalea's arms and held her in her own. Azalea held her breath as the Queen poked a ringed finger at Rosemary, who babbled in the cutest baby way, happy to play. When the Queen looked up, she had a smile on her face that showed off dazzling, white teeth.

"It's just your luck that I like children." She grinned. "I'm quite interested in this little one. What was her name again?"

"Rosemary," Azalea breathed.

"But you and the others are all welcome to live with me at my castle. Would you like that?" Azalea couldn't believe her ears. She thought of her father and mother and how this woman had likely murdered them. She couldn't refuse the Queen, though she honestly wanted to be as far away from this woman as possible. This woman who was on the hunt for Snow White, who Azalea had helped. This woman who had raised taxes so high that her family could barely afford to eat. This woman who had just burned down her village.

"Yes, very much, Your Majesty." She answered. The Queen grinned again.

"You will take Graham," she motioned to one of her guards, "to the other children, then head to the castle on your own." She turned around to head back to the carriage, Rosemary still in her arms. Then she paused and turned towards her again. "And find your animal." Azalea felt wrong, leaving Rosemary in those beautiful, powerful hands, but a soldier was taking off his helmet and leading a horse her way.

"Which way?" He asked in an accent she didn't recognize. She pointed the way Patches had ran then followed him in a daze. Thankfully, they found the donkey quickly and even better, her brothers and sister were still fast asleep and unharmed when they arrived to the abandoned cart. Graham was able to hitch his horse to the wagon and take them all to the castle. By night time, they had arrived at the largest and most magnificent structure any of them had ever seen, the Queen's castle. 


End file.
